Playing Doctor
by Tirajm
Summary: Martha pretends to be the Doctor.  The Doctor pretends to be a companion.  Both of them pretend it's not as hard as it looks.


"Where are we off to this time?" Martha asked, leaning over the TARDIS' console to grin at the Doctor. "Now that I've got you to agree to a second date," she added teasingly.

"It's not a date," the Doctor insisted. "We're just travelling together. It's not romantic in the least bit." Martha snorted. "It's not! We're going be running through corridors, and climbing through sewers, that sort of thing. Our first step is a repairs trip, actually. See, I helped fix up an atmospheric generator on this planet called Floras, and it _should_ be in need of repairs right about now. Lovely people, the Florins. Very good memories – a little too good, some might say. Hmm. I wonder if they've gotten over that unfortunate incident with the capital building yet, or if the warrant's still good?"

"What happened with the capital building?" Martha asked suspiciously.

"Well, first off, it was a mistake." He paused. "Well, kind of a mistake. Well, I don't think she set off the Nitro 9 on accident, but I'm almost positive she didn't know that their building materials were so explosive. _I _certainly didn't."

"Let me get this straight," said Martha. "You went to this planet a long time ago, and blew up their capital building, they have a warrant for your arrest out, and now you're going _back_?"

The Doctor looked hurt. "It's not like it was my fault. I told Ace that blowing things up doesn't solve everything, I tried to explain it to her, but did she listen to me? No. None of my companions ever do. It's not like I'm asking too much, just stay in the TARDIS, don't wander off, try not to touch anything that gets all glowy, but it's like they don't even hear me!" Martha gave a quiet but significant cough. "Right. The Florins," the Doctor said, returning to his main topic at last. "Well, it's perfectly safe for you, for one thing. They're very fair-minded people, the Florins, and you'll forgive me for saying you don't look much like Ace, so they won't even bother you.

"The thing about the Florins," the Doctor explained, "is that they are extremely honest, and rather thick. They never lie – they literally _can't_, it's psychologically impossible for them – and thus, they're absolute rubbish at telling whether or not someone else is. I'll just not tell them I'm the Doctor – you'll have to call me something else, by the way. John Smith usually works. It's not like they'll recognize me, that was three regenerations ago, so as long as they don't catch us hanging about the TARDIS or something, they probably won't even put two and two together." The TARDIS landed with a sudden, loud shaking, and Martha found herself sprawled up against the console. "Here we are!" the Doctor said, with slightly worrying cheer. "Floras! Right, this shouldn't take more than an hour or so."

They heard a large, electronic crackle coming from immediately outside them. "DOC-TOR," intoned a loud, insistent voice, amplified by some sort of bullhorn. "WE HAVE YOU SURROUNDED. PLEASE EXIT THE TARDIS AND SUBMIT YOURSELF TO OUR CUSTODY."

"Won't catch us unless we're hanging around the TARDIS, will they?" muttered Martha. "Can't we just phase out of here or something?"

"No luck," said the Doctor, who had been attempting just that. "They've got some sort of dampening field going on, very clever, I could probably get myself out of this in oh, say, four hours?" He sighed. "This is going to be a lot more complicated than I thought. We'll just have to do as they say, and maybe if I'm very polite, they'll let us go."

Martha had sudden, vivid memories of the Doctor trying to be polite to her mother. "That's not likely to work. And besides, that atmospheric generator sounds pretty desperate."

"It is," he admitted. "I think I timed things a bit closer than I should have. We've got, ooh, three days?"

"PLEASE EXIT THE TARDIS, DOC-TOR," the voice repeated. "WE HAVE YOU SURROUNDED."

"Yes, I know!" the Doctor called back. "Will you lot shut up for just a second?"

"This is a terrible idea," Martha said, more to herself than anyone else. "Alright, give me your glasses, and that sonic you broke."

"Why, what are you doing?" he asked curiously, but he did as she said.

"You'll see," she told him ominously. She stuck the broken screwdriver in her pocket, and slid the glasses on. "I thought they were just for show!" she said triumphantly, peering through them.

"I like them," he said reproachfully. "I think they make me look clever."

"Let's hope it works," she muttered, and flung the doors of the TARDIS open. It was surrounded, by a group of short, oddly rectangular aliens with deep purple skin, who were far more threatening for the rather large guns they were all carrying. One of them had a smaller gun in a holster, and was holding what looked like a cross between a bullhorn and a phonograph. "Alright, Florins, here I am. This is the Doctor, submitting herself to your custody."

She could almost feel the Doctor gaping behind her; the Florins certainly looked taken aback. They were short. "YOU ARE NOT THE DOC-TOR," the one with the bullhorn said.

"You don't need to do that," she told it, doing her best to sound Doctor-ish. "Really, you don't. I can hear you perfectly well."

The bullhorn-like contraption was lowered, and it continued speaking in a much more normal volume. "You are not the Doctor. You are the wrong shape and size, and your voice does not sound like his. Where is the Doctor?"

"I'm him. Well, I was him. I'm her, now. I regenerated, you know, changed my form."

The Florins engaged in a momentary debate, in voices too low to make out. "Regeneration is an ability of the Time Lords. We accept that statement," their speaker said at last. "Please surrender your sonic screwdriver and any other form of weaponry." Martha passed the broken one without complaint. "Thank you. Who is the other one with you?"

Martha turned around to see that the Doctor had exited the TARDIS as well. "Oh, him," she said dismissively, shoving the glasses back up her nose. "He's just my assistant, John Smith. He's extremely reliable and clever; though I'm afraid I'm too depressed after losing my last companion to really appreciate it."

"Oi!" said the Doctor, sounding rather offended. The Florins looked at him. "I mean, she could appreciate me a bit better, that's all I'm saying," he said hastily.

"Your relationship is none of our business," the Florin leader told Martha sternly. "We do not care to know about it. Where is the other culprit, the human girl known as Ace?"

"She… left," Martha invented wildly. "Her mum was ill, and she decided it was more important to care for her, instead of journeying through time and space with me." The Doctor gave her a look that rather frantically expressed the falsity of that statement.

"Very well. Let the record state that her warrant remains open. The Doctor should proceed to her trial with us. John Smith is free to go."

"Right, if you'll release the TARDIS, I can just pop back to Earth," the Doctor said agreeably.

"We cannot allow that. It must be held as evidence until the trial," the Florin told him in a voice that suggested arguing was likely to be hopeless. The Doctor looked helpless.

"Not to worry, John," Martha said, trying to sound jovial. "I'm sure you can find something to do while I get this sorted." She winked at him.

"Oh! Oh yes, I'm sure I'll be able to keep myself occupied," he said. "Could you just give me a minute to talk to Ma – to the Doctor first?"

"We will permit that," said the Florin, though it didn't sound as though it wanted to particularly.

"Great." He grabbed Martha's arm, which earned him a dirty look, and dragged her off to the side. "What do you think you're doing?" he hissed.

"Look, this way, you can go fix the generators, and I'll try to get you off. Or would you rather we tried it the other way around?"

"I know, it's a brilliant idea, but just be careful. Be very careful. The Florins have probably charged, er, _you_ with wilful endangerment of life, and the penalty for that is death."

"Why didn't you _tell_ me?" she whispered as loudly as possibly.

"I didn't think it would come up! Just be careful, don't be rude to them or anything. Oh, and make sure you don't ask their leader about his head."

"Wait, what's wrong with his head?" she asked, but the Florins were glaring at them, and at least one was shifting its gun in a way that suggested they might want to hurry up.

"I'll explain later," he told her. "Good luck!"

"Thanks," she said, as the Florins led her away. It looked like she would need it.


End file.
